Prelude
by justbolts
Summary: Megatron sends Dinobot an invitation and the encounter is not what he expects... not at first, at least.  Pre-series.  Megatron/Dinobot


**~Prelude~**

By Bolts

**Continuity:** Beast Wars

**Pairing:** Megatron/Dinobot

**Warning:** Slash, implied sex.

Written for Caia, for the Transformers fic trade.

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The first time Megatron invited Dinobot to his private residence, the question was not whether or not he ended up in Megatron's berth, but rather, how far he would be made to submit beforehand.

After all, the latter question had been answered the moment Dinobot accepted the invitation itself. In a sense, it had been answered even before that; while Dinobot had not been under Megatron's employ at that time, Megatron was a high-ranking Predacon with the power to make his life very miserable should Dinobot choose to reject him. A Maximal would have said Dinobot never had a choice at all - that being made to pick between "homeless in the gutter" and "unwanted interface to appease superior" negated any true consent.

Dinobot himself believed that if he wanted more amiable options in life, he'd have to be strong enough to earn them.

Either way, he wasn't wholely without recourse. If Megatron was true Predacon, he would be wanting a fight. Dinobot arrived at his residence fully prepared to give him one.

"Ah, excellent timing," Megatron said by way of greeting. Spotlights dotted the interior of his residence, drawing attention to garish adornments and ridiculously opulent furnishings, and casting the rest in shadow. His optics glinted out of the dimness and he spoke to Dinobot as if welcoming an old friend. "I've just finishing preparing a drink. Come and sit, there's a musical piece I want to share with you. I think you will enjoy it, yes."

Dinobot faltered.

"I have not come here to listen to ... _music_," he said, furious and feeling played with.

"No?" Megatron said. The edge that Dinobot had expected at last entered his voice. "But _I_ have. Would you tell me, in my own home, how I am to entertain my guests?"

Dinobot pulled in his anger. Conflict in prelude to interface was one thing. Fighting on this point would put him in the same position as refusing the invitation would have.

"No. Of course not," he said, with as much appeasement as he felt the situation warranted, "I would enjoy the chance to - " He chewed unhappily on the word. "_- listen_ with you."

The threat smoothed out from Megatron's face plates as if it had never been. "That's the spirit, yes! Right this way."

He held out a hand to direct Dinobot to an intimate seating area with gel-packed cushions that gave alarmingly under Dinobot's weight.

For the next cycle, Megatron had him drink quality fuel, listen to two musical sets, and finally, watch a short recorded performance by a composer with a radically different style. Or least, Megatron _said_ he had a radically different style. Megatron said a great many things over the course of the visit and absolutely none of them followed any script Dinobot was remotely familiar with.

Megatron did not challenge him. He did not provoke, or prod, or mock, or flaunt his not inconsiderable strength. He, in short, did not _flirt_ in any real Predacon understanding of the word. Oh, glimpses appeared, flashes of warning and almost predatory interest, but nothing Dinobot could respond to properly.

Instead, Megatron discussed music. He brought up a baffling list of composers, referred to the works and varying popularity of several musicians, expressed scorn at the current "pop" sensations. Though to say that they _discussed _was an incorrect phrase. Dinobot knew nothing about music and had little to say in the occasional moments Megatron expected some sort of reaction from him.

"It's sound. Some sounds just happen to be more appeasing than others," Dinobot finally said out of boredom and frustration, "That is all."

"Oh no," Megatron said and his optics blazed even brighter in some secret excitement, "That is where you are wrong. Yes. Allow me to _show_ you."

Megatron deposited him outside some time later, entirely untouched and processor churning with every emotion from confusion to anger to, of all things, disappointment. How ironic to go dreading an intimacy he didn't ask for, only to leave annoyed at it's failure to manifest.

The mystery plagued him for megacycles afterward. He didn't have the rank or position to be _courted_ by someone of Megatron stature. The only value such a mech could get from him was physical - whether pleasure or in service to. He could make no sense of it.

Thus, when the second invitation arrived, he accepted it with a feeling very much like anticipation. A feeling that only grew as that visit, and then the third, and finally the fourth went the same as the first one had. It was during the fifth that _he_ reached out to Megatron in blatant invitation and Megatron laughed and laughed and muffled the sound against Dinobot's neck.

It would be a long, long time before Dinobot realized how thoroughly he'd lost.

End

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Thank you for reading!


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